


silk.

by spacenaut



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bonding, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gen, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, eventual smut??, honerva's bad parenting, keith is a big gay disaster, kinkade basically develops a tiny crush, kinkade is actually vvv soft, lance does aerial tricks and shit, lotor deserved so much better, or Both, shiro is a cute dumbass, the husband is either adam or curtis, zarkon's bad parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 17:50:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18183809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacenaut/pseuds/spacenaut
Summary: In which Shiro knocks the cake over at his own wedding with his fucking ass. Pidge then takes the matter into her own hands and tries her best to find a way to distract the public while Hunk fetches another cake. Shenanigans ensue.[re-starting].





	silk.

The young Cuban male had been in love with the silks for years, and he's been in love with dancing for as long as he can remember. Performing only made him feel better as if he floated on clouds; pure bliss. He enjoyed the overwhelming feeling of joy that washed over him when he showed off, and when small kids pointed at him and told their parents that they wanted to learn how to do that. It was fulfilling to say the very least.

 

Lance was nearly as great as a prodigy, according to a couple of articles. It came as a surprise to him and he humbly accepted many of their compliments. He had been dancing competitively for about two years; he was going to do the same at the beginning of the new year but a certain accident had left him out of the competition. Lance had felt like he just boarded a rollercoaster that didn’t live up to his expectations. He was sure that he would land in at least 3rd place, knowing all the other competitors.

 

People would normally hate such things - not being able to compete; and to be honest, he did at first. But he was a huge optimist, he liked to think that his new job compensated for it. It was kind of a crazy story about how he even managed to get the job, but he was grateful nonetheless.

 

He remembers a certain day in which he helped out a close friend of his move out of her old dance studio. Her name was Allura, well- it still is. While she loaded boxes into her uncle's car, Lance was making sure nothing was left behind. 

 

Lance insists that he doesn’t remember anything other than going into the room and getting a couple of materials, but Allura's uncle ㅡCoranㅡ assures him otherwise. He insists on spending time with the boy when he can to try and get him to remember. He tells the story over and over, claiming it’s his favorite and that it’s one of the reasons he appreciates the young male so much. 

 

Lance remembers most of it, but he _especially_ denies whenever Coran mentions that Lance had been talking to a stranger with long black hair, apparently Lance had been mumbling fond words towards him as he was being carried off into an ambulance.

 

A small voice interrupted his thoughts, he looked down and his eyes met a young and very nervous child. 

 

“Mr. Lance, I heard some kids were saying that maybe you aren't as good as people say- that we should get a new dance teacher,” the child said as he looked down and began mumbling. 

 

“But they're wrong, right? You're very good at dancing,” the boy grinned before adding a small “I think.”

 

The male laughed loudly, “I don't know, but I've been dancing for a very long time. I could show you all, I have a show coming up soon, they could come and judge for themselves.”

 

Lance also had a small fascination with kids, which is how he got his current 'part-time job.’ 

 

The boy's eyes widened slightly and twinkled, “Can I have tickets for it? I want to see you dance!” With that, Lance could feel his insides melt. He simply nodded.

 

“I think I'm good, I'd be ready to pull off performances and come up with it _on the spot._ Anyways, clean up niños, your parents will be here to pick you up in a few minutes.”

 

Lance McClain. He, a college student and slightly recognized junior dance instructor ㅡin a wayㅡ had just jinxed it.

  


Shiro was internally panicking as he greeted guests into the fancy salon where he was hosting his wedding party. His new husband came up from behind him, seeing how he needed some time away from the crowd of people congratulating him. He could tell as soon as he saw the small furrows between Shiro’s eyebrows. They locked eyes and Shiro understood immediately what his husband wanted, no words needed.

 

He walked toward the well-illuminated kitchen. He knew too well than to argue with that selfless and stubborn man. The counters were filled with different types of food and dessert. He raised an eyebrow and watched as a young male with long black hair stealing a chocolate-covered strawberry. He chuckled, and the young male turned around, eyes wide as he blew air out of his nose, nearly choking on the strawberry he had stolen. 

 

“Want one? I can tell you're tired,” the young male asked as he pointed to a batch of strawberries, completely ignoring the situation. Shiro simply shook his head and sighed. “Do you mind helping outside, Keith? I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed, I'll be out in a little anyways”

 

Keith shrugged and took a strawberry and on his way out handed it to the older male. “Stay here and take a break, eat some shit, you deserve it after all, don't deprive yourself of enjoyment just because you feel extremely responsible,” he placed his arm on Shiro's shoulder and patted it slowly, he wasn’t exactly the best when it comes to showing affection if he was honest.

 

The taller man was about to say something but Keith began walking towards the door murmuring a small “Besides, you're stressing too much for a six-year-old.”

 

Keith laughed and hurried out of the kitchen, not wanting to deal with the infamous 'Dad Voice.’ 

 

Shiro plopped the strawberry into his mouth and let his shoulders relax as he ate some of the food being served to people as appetizers. He leaned back against a small table, he felt something wobble and his panicking only got worse.

  


The sound of a crash in the kitchen was barely audible over the loud music being played. But those who heard it knew exactly what they heard. Soon, two people known as Pidge and Hunk hurried to the sound of the accident. Or at least they hoped it was an accident.

 

Keith paid no attention to it and continued greeting guests, leading them to tables and making small talk as he walked around, making sure things were in order - there was no way in hell he was going to let his brother’s wedding not be the best day of his brother and new brother-in-law. 

 

A male looking quite similar to Pidge walked in with four people trailing behind him. Keith excused himself from the table he was currently at and walked to the newly arrived guests. He took a closer look at them and recognized them as old classmates, he recognized one of them in particular.

 

“Griffin.”

 

The said man extended his hand and Keith shook it, subtly overdoing the squeeze, but the other male didn't flinch. He sighed and just decided to pretend this group was nothing but a group of strangers. His face showed a smile and he cringed internally. 

  


Meanwhile, Pidge was pacing from one side of the kitchen nervously. Shiro was found as he was standing up with a couple of stains on his white blazer, a small and very weak table was flipped over, the large cake had fallen to the floor. 

 

“Hunk, don't you dare say what I think you're gonna say. You don't have enough time to bake a whole new one as much of a great chef you might be.” Hearing that from Pidge, Hunk visibly deflated.

 

Pidge hummed before she pushed her glasses up a little, having figured almost everything out.

 

“Shiro, take off that blazer. You're needed upfront, for nothing big though, just the usual talking and congratulations.” Shiro nodded and slipped off the blazer, hanging it on a small hook where nicely patterned aprons were found.

 

A large coat was also found hanging there, the three didn't care much about finding out who it belonged to though. Shiro recognized it as Keith’s, it had been a birthday gift that his (now) husband had made for the grumpy young man when he turned eighteen.

 

“Hunk, go to that one place that sells huge cakes, it's not too far away; if it’s closed, head to that one Balmera Bakery place. Ask if they can help you bring it here, I'll stay here and clean this up as much as I can.”

 

Shiro's eyes looked concerned and guilty even though his posture displayed a calm vibe. “How long do you think that'll take?”

 

Pidge sighed and responded in a small voice, “I honestly have no idea. But we need something to distract the public in case it takes longer, any ideas?”

 

Shiro shook his head, “I'm hoping it doesn't take too long though. Allura will be here soon and I promised her she'd get a slice of cake before anybody else did. You know how she likes sweets-”

 

He was cut off by Pidge's voice, “Allura! Shiro, bless your social self and your connections, I could never! Hand me your phone, I need to do something but my phone's dead.” Shiro obliged and handed her his phone as he walked out the door and into the crowd of people who held presents. “Now go, your husband is waiting for you, _Takashit._ ”

 

She was lucky Shiro was more concentrated on everything else to even notice what she called him.

 

“Your phone's not dead, why'd you say that Pidge?” Hunk's sweet and concerned voice spoke.

 

“I need to call Allura but in case she doesn't answer, I'll call someone else. But he won't answer me all through today because I took the last pizza slice while we were playing Killbot Phantasm 27 last night,” Pidge's shoulders slumped, “And because he found out I let him win purposely.”

 

“OH! I get where you're going with this- Are you sure it'll be okay?” Hunk asked as he looked out the door, “We can't exactly sneak in that equipment without anyone noticing.”

 

“Veronica's with him, she went to pick him up. I'm sure she should know how to sneak it all in. Besides, I trust this guy's ass with my computer, he and I've got this in the bag.”

 

Hunk rolled his eyes, “You're almost as hopeless as Matt, I'm just hoping you don't call a stripper if he doesn't answer. You'd be capable of doing so.” Pidge playfully stuck out her tongue and winked before she shooed Hunk outside while she heard the phone ring. “Go, get the cake Hunk, _hurry.”_

  


Lance reached for the keys to lock down Allura's dance studio. Before his fingers found the key, his phone's speaker began blasting a remix of a techno chicken song he had set as his ringtone. Yes, it was all thanks to Pidge, _that little gremlin is the distant relative of Satan himself_.

 

He picked up his phone and answered, not bothering to look at the caller. “¿Bueno, quién habla?” he responded.

 

He pulled the phone away from his ear as he heard the caller's voice begin to speak. “Pidgeotto? I blocked you for today though, did you hack this phone too?” he asked jokingly, not mad at his friend as he wanted her to think.

 

“No no no, Lance this is a huge emergency, are you still at the studio? I need emergency performance as soon as humanly possible. I'll buy you coffee for this whole upcoming week and he week after that, you up for it?” The voice on the other side of the phone rambled. Fortunately, Lance was already used to these types of conversation.

 

Well, for the most part. He was used to Pidge's (usually successful) attempts at bribing him or just her speaking extremely quickly when she was nervous, panicking or just excited. 

 

“Sure, but on one more condition, Pidgeotto-” Lance said as he headed back to the storage room to get a couple of things. Veronica, who had been waiting outside, walked into the studio.

 

The younger sibling shoved the said “couple of things” into her arms and she just sighed, carrying them into the back of her truck as her brother babbled on and on to the person on the phone.

  


Ryan Kinkade was not exactly a person who liked going out to parties. He preferred traveling alone or going out to flower shops, occasionally he'd go to the library. He wished he at least brought his precious camera with him. He could spend hours anywhere if he just had his camera with him. He was never too much of a social person but he’d like to think that if the situation called for it, he could be at least decent when it came to this whole social thing; talking, hanging out with people and so on.

 

Unfortunately, James had convinced him to leave his camera back home. Well, it was more of a bet- a small one. If Ryan had fun without his camera and managed to like the party, he'd have to shop with James and the rest of their friends and let them drag him around. And if he didn't, James would do all of Ryan's laundry and water his plants. That itself takes some time and Ryan wanted to free up some of his schedules so that he had time to go out and take some pictures - not surprising.

 

His friends had started bets, Nadia and Ina had a small and playful argument over which of the two would win every time the bet was mentioned. But they always ended it with a playful smack in the back of their heads. Their group wasn’t as serious as they seemed, they were a “group of crackheads,” according to Shiro’s husband.

 

Ryan had to admit that the person choosing out the music had a very nice music taste, so he wasn't exactly regretting anything so far. He had the chance to meet quite a lot of new people, some shared his interests and others were just nice people to talk to in general. He wasn't too interested in the party overall, they're only fun when you know people and you don't mind being in crowds.

 

That didn't exactly apply to him. He only ever talked to his close friends and some other adults.

 

The lights in the middle of the salon dimmed down. Some large curtains were pulled out of nowhere and covered the middle of said space, Ryan glanced up and saw as some of the lights were dimmed, the music was changed to fit the dim mood, calm and not as chaotic as he would’ve expected. The music was fitting, it was as if a theme song for some sort of dramatic but fancy soap opera took over. The music slowly got louder, though it wasn’t too loud- and Ryan was thankful for that.

  


Veronica had already arrived at the destination and began to set up the stage for her brother, she had dropped him off at his apartment to give him time to get ready. Luckily for him, his apartment wasn’t far from said place. 

 

He quickly dashed upstairs as soon as he got home, he threw on something nice that he could perform in and began to apply some makeup on his face. It took forever to finish, he tends to panic when it comes to doing things in a hurry. 

 

He finished pretty quickly and headed back out the door after throwing a trench coat over his outfit. He checked his many pockets to make sure a USB was in his pocket. That USB was Lance’s actual lifesaver. It contained all sorts of music that he knew the routines of _by memory._

 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and realized he still had enough time, so he slowed down as he walked towards a very nice building with a small line of people outside, waiting to get in. He stood behind all those people, a small kid turned around and waved at him- it wasn’t necessarily a proper wave but it was warm and cute. 

 

His eyes widened in awe and he tried making lots of silly faces to make the kid laugh. She was around 2 or 3 years old by the look of it. She began laughing and squirming around as she turned back to the front to play with her parent’s hair.

 

The line moved forward quite quickly and Lance was pretty sure he would be walked into the interior of the building just fine. He looked around and stumbled forward, nearly falling. Lance turned around to glare at whoever that was- he ended up scaring an eight-year-old. His hands were stained with a bright orange as well as a muddy brown, his eyes were apologetic. The eight-year-old just stood up and ran away with a ball in his hands.

 

“Welcome, are you here alone or do you want to be taken to a lar-” a raspy and slightly annoyed voice spoke to him and looked at him. Lance looked forward again to exchange a glance with the person who spoke to him.

 

He had black hair and a nice complexion, Lance didn’t get the time to admire the stranger more than that.

 

“Follow me to the side, _please_ ,” the stranger had told him as he gestured to the side- Lance had no other option and obliged.

 

“Look, man, I don’t mean to be rude, but do you need a new coat? Or can you at least take that one off? Because yours is kind of-” the stranger hesitated, “you know.”

 

Lance gasped, offended, and looked down at his coat, now noticing that the side of his coat now had a large stain on it. He sighed with a small thought just running through his mind.

 

_Damn kids._

 

It had to be that one kid who bumped into him with the ball since there was no other person that was extremely close to his coat. He didn’t blame the kid though, he remembers lots of the mischievous things he had done to his family members and sometimes even strangers. He couldn’t blame the kid. Besides, the dude right in front of him seemed like a serious guy who could make anyone cry and not regret it.

 

“I think I’m perfectly fine the way I am, thank you very much,” Lance scoffed and crossed his arms across his chest, slightly huffing.

 

“Sorry, I just want to make sure that this wedding party comes out as perfect as possible for Shiro, so _cooperate,_ ” the stranger gritted his teeth and extended out his hand, “ I’ll even hold onto that coat of yours for you.”

 

The Cuban male’s eyebrows furrow. _Well, I_ ’ _m not going to get this guy off my back, might as well_. Lance’s face was painted with annoyance and he began to slip off his coat, revealing a blue silk button-up that slightly slid down his shoulder accompanied by a pair of tight white pants. On his feet were a pair of nice dress shoes with a slight heel. 

 

He slips out the USB from his pocket and holds onto it. He was grateful that the mulleted stranger asked no questions about it. 

 

“I’m gonna go put this in the back, don’t forget it.”

 

_Like hell am I gonna forget that coat-._


End file.
